February 4th 2013.

Natasha Romanova and Clint Barton sat in a hospital room, hands held tightly. There was silence. The nurse smiled and handed them a bundle of blankets,
"Congratulations, its a girl." they both beam peering down at the tiny human. Six pounds and nine ounces of pure bliss.
"She's perfect Tash." Clint smiled holding the hand of the tiny baby. "Just like her mom." Natasha smiled and adjusted the blankets.
"She is, isn't she?"
"Do you have a name?" the nurse inquired from across the room.
"We're not sure abou-" Natasha cut Clint off.
"Strelka. Strelka Romanova Barton." She nodded in satisfaction.
"Not more of this Russian crap! Are you even gonna tell me what it means?"
"You'll find out soon enough." Natasha laughed. He simply smiled a little and shook his head. Clint loved Natasha more than anything and the thought of spending the rest of his life with her and their daughter gave him butterflies. But he knew there would be no happy ending. Director Fury had made it very clear months ago that they couldn't keep their child. He said it was for her protection, that people would hurt her to get to the two of them. This concept didn't shock Clint, he'd seen it happen, but it still caused a dull ache in his chest. The thought he and Natasha would never see their daughter again scared him. He wished he were normal, that they could all have average middle class existences and live happily ever after. But that was a fairytale, and Clint knew all too well that fairytales didn't come true.
This would break Natasha. There was no question about that. Clint knew all too well that it would silently eat her insides and that she would blame herself to no end. He squeezed Tasha's hand and looked down at the infant.
"Hey there sweetheart." a tear escaped his eye and ran down his cheek. He laughed a little, "I'm really awful at this soppy stuff, I'm sorry." He looked up to Natasha and saw she was also on the verge of tears. But he knew she'd keep it together until after the director left. She was just like that, said it made things easier. Clint then remembered what sat in his pocket. He stood up and retrieved a little bag then handed it to Tash. "Its for her. Open it." she looked at him in slight confusion before opening the bag and letting the contents fall onto the blankets. It was a necklace. An arrow, the same as Natasha's. Engraved on it were the words 'You Are Loved' in Russian (Вы любимы, pronounced Vy lyubimy). Natasha smiled and kissed his cheek.
"Its perfect. Thank you Clint." He sat back in his seat and held her hand again.
"I'm glad you like it Nat. Something for her to remember us by, right?" she sighed and nodded.
"Yeah. To remember us by…"
Clint was about to speak again when Director Fury appeared in the doorway. They both nodded at him as he walked in, he nodded back.
"How is she?" he asked stopping a dozen feet away from the pair.
"She's perfe-" Clint was cut off.
"She's fine, sir." he could see that she was already trying to emotionally distance herself. He knew this wasn't going to end well for any of them.
"Natasha, showing affection doesn't make you a bad agent." he sighed a little, "Whats her name?"
"Strelka. Nat picked it." Clint squeezed her hand reassuringly. She could sweet talk her way out of anything so her bluntness and silence worried him. He could see she was already cracking, but there wasn't much he could do now. He knew one of them had to try keep it together. Fury nodded.
"She looks like you both." Fury ran his hand over his head. "You know I don't want to do this."
"Then don't." She looked up at him coldly, her tone flat and to the point.
"Natasha I'm sorry. If there was any other way I would-" "How come Stark can keep his son but we can't keep her." Natasha bit the inside of her lip as a means to keep calm. She was cracking. She never cracked.
"You know its different for Stark. He's not a full time agent. There are hundreds of factors at work here. I'm sorry, but if you want her to be safe you have no alternative." Fury sighed, he knew this would happen some time. Clint stepped in before Natasha lost her composure,
"If it'll keep her safe, we haven't got a choice Nat. We've gotta think about her." Natasha looked down at the sleeping child,
"If anything happens to her Fury I swear to god…" He intervened.
"I swear on my life she will be kept safe. In the end, we have to put whats best for her ahead of what's best for you two." She didn't look up.
"Alright. For her." She kissed the baby's forehead and muttered for a moment before passing her to Clint. Her eyes were glued on the child.
"Stay safe, Strelka. We won't stop thinking about you." He told her, fighting back tears. He got up and handed her to Fury along with the necklace.
"Make sure it stays with her?" He asked. Fury nodded.
"Of course Clint. You two are relieved of active duty until your ready. I am sorry." He adjusted his grip on the child and walked out. Clint turned back to Natasha to see tears running down her face. He sat (on the bed) and put an arm around her.
"I feel like we've made the worst mistake, Clint." she whispered. He tucked back her hair.
"I know sweetheart. Come on, lets get you home."

Four months later, Thor came to Director Fury with another child.
He looked tired and was dressed in civilian clothes, which surprised Fury. "Thor, Come in to my office." He opened the door and the Asgardian walked in holding the blankets in his arms tightly. Fury shut the door behind them and sat back at his desk.
"What can I do for you?" He asked, already having a feeling as to what was about to happen. Thor sat opposite the director,
"Sir, I'm in need of your help." He stopped, contemplating.
"Go on…" Fury told him.
"I… well, Jane and I… we have a child." He smiled a little, Fury did the same.
"Congratulations." "Thank you," he continued, "As Jane is in your protection, she can't look after her and well… If I took her back to Asgard they would-" He stopped, "She would not be safe. Is there any way that SHIELD could protect her? Until she's old enough to understand." Fury nodded almost instantaneously. "Of course. We'll make sure she's looked after." Thor sighed in relief,
"Thank you, Director Fury. I must know however, where will you keep her?" "She'll be sent to a home. Away from New York, where we know she'll be cared for."
"But what is this place? On Asgard we…" he looked down, "you know what we do on Asgard…" Fury felt sorry for the god, this was the most human he had ever seen him.
"It's a home for children who can't stay with their families. Not a SHIELD training facility or anything like that. Clint and Natasha's daughter is already being taken care of there. We'll also give her a tracker in her forearm so we can keep an eye on her." Thor nodded again and looked down at the child.
"Will we see her again?" Fury nodded a little,
"When she's grown up, yes. You and Jane can meet her then." A tear rolled down Thor's cheek as the baby held his finger. He laughed a little,
"You're a good man, Nick." He said, not taking his eyes off his daughter.
"Would you like a minute with her?" Thor nodded and Fury left the room. He stood outside and sighed to himself, knowing that he had to treat his team differently wasn't a concept he was fond of. In the end however, it had to be about the kids. He waited a few minutes more before coming back into the office. Thor looked up at him red eyed and smiled a little,
"Make sure she's looked after, Director. I'm counting on you."
"She will be Thor, don't worry." Thor sniffed and looked at his daughter one last time.
"Until we meet again, Astrid." He kissed her tiny forehead before handing her to Fury along with a book.
"Could you make sure it stays with her?" Fury nodded as he took the child.
"Of course. Go get some rest, Thor." The men both nodded at each other and parted ways.

Fury took the child to Chicago and left her at the home where Strelka, now Lucy Hite, was being cared for. The staff gave her the last name Jones, as the note with her only said 'Astrid' as a means of protecting her. Astrid kept the book with her, Lucy's necklace was kept safely in her file; and the two girls were left to grow up, unaware of who and what their parents were.